Chapter 23: Sheriff

Although it's common for old people to talk about the past, it's rare for Old John to recall his wartime experiences—only occasionally, when he's in high spirits.

He never expected any response when telling these stories.

This might be because he spent most of his life alone and grew accustomed to entertaining himself.

He would speak of the heroes he met during the war, how many fascists they killed, and who they saved. He'd also recount how he met his wife during the hardest times, and how they married after the war.

He'd talk about the woman's virtues and every small detail of their life together.

At such times, Henry only needed to be a patient listener.

Even the usual listener's responses like "And then?" weren't needed. Just close your mouth and use your ears.

Of course, that night Henry was busy eating—finished one meal, went to make another, then kept eating.

Under the influence of alcohol, Old John kept talking, as if he were dreaming, every past event vividly flashing before his eyes.

By the time the old man finally collapsed into sleep, it was already past seven in the morning—but in winter in Alaska, the sky was still dark, and the interior still needed artificial light.

After putting him to bed, Henry cleaned the kitchen and began tidying the bar.

Although Old John cleaned the place every day after closing, dust never stopped accumulating.

He brushed off these minor annoyances and repaired things that were barely holding together. Following Old John's habit, he only fixed something once it was completely unusable.

But Henry wasn't used to that. Limited repairs were a form of maintenance, extending the lifespan of objects.

Old John waited until repairs were unavoidable partly because his physical strength no longer matched that of a young man—he couldn't keep up with everything.

Once preparations for opening were done, Henry could flip the sign outside to "OPEN" and officially welcome customers.

But this gesture was just for show. Anyone bold enough to come to the bar during daylight hours would earn Old John's fiery mockery, such as:

"Only thugs and useless trash come to drink during the day. Even cockroaches know to go earn money—or get high—during daylight. You're so pathetic you come here to drink in the daytime? I'm ashamed for your father."

"The only people I'll serve alcohol to during the day are those whose wives ran off with someone else—or slept with them. If you're that pitiful, I'll let you get drunk here. Otherwise, get your fat ass moving and find a real job."

"What kind of idiot thinks of getting drunk before noon? Oh, it's you. You're only fit for jobs even a dog could do, so don't blame anyone when you lose them. I hope you have enough money to keep drinking until you're in your coffin. I don't do credit."

In short, every living person in town had been trained by Old John to avoid the bar during daylight hours.

So after tidying up, Henry comfortably turned on the classic movie channel, sat by the sunlit window, and watched the film while soaking in the sunlight.

Perfect～

Soon after, the bar door opened. Winter's chill rushed in, dropping the temperature and making everyone shiver.

Henry wondered which fool had the nerve to enter the bar during daylight—only to see a middle-aged man, bulky as a bear, with a large belly.

Wearing a police uniform, Henry recognized him as the town's sheriff.

Okay. Some things Old John could say—but if Henry said them, he'd better be ready to get shot. Especially when the target was a sheriff.

He greeted: "Morning, Sheriff." Then walked behind the bar and asked, "What'll you have?"

"Just water, Henry." The sheriff, glancing around, walked up to the bar.

"Coming right up, Sheriff." The bar's water was lemonade—usually for customers to rinse their mouths, free of charge. Henry poured a glass and brought it to the officer.

"Henry, I heard you went out to sea. When did you get back?"

"I don't know how long I slept, but I returned to Huigang on the sixteenth—same day."

"Today's the eighteenth. You slept over a day."

"Good thing it was only over a day. Didn't waste much time," Henry joked.

"Where's Old John? He should be up by now. Why haven't I seen him?"

"When I woke up at dawn, I woke him. We chatted a bit—he's catching up on sleep in the back now. Want me to wake him?"

"No need." The sheriff stood and walked toward the room behind the bar. "Don't mind if I take a look?"

Henry waved his hand in a "go ahead" gesture. Even without it, the sheriff carefully opened the door and peered inside.

As luck would have it, Old John rolled over—and let out a loud fart toward the door.

The sheriff quickly shut the door, muttering: "Fuck, this old bastard."

Henry gave a helpless shrug. The old man farted—he couldn't possibly run to block it.

Back at the bar, the sheriff pointed out the window at the Cadillac and asked: "Is that car yours?"

"I bought it from Old Tang Mu. He let me drive it first—the paperwork's still being processed."

"Tang Mu? Which Tang Mu?"

"The Tang Mu from the small town to the south—Old Tang Mu Human Resources & Consulting."

"Ah, him. I knew this car looked familiar." The sheriff, pretending not to know—or feigning ignorance—added: "I remember you were on… uh, whose boat?"

"Old George's boat, the Anne Twenty-One. The Pole introduced me to him."

"Ah, yes, Old George's boat. Crabbing isn't easy, is it? I went to Bai Linghai once when I was young—left a deep impression."

Speaking of the experience, Henry complained: "Yeah, never a moment without shaking. Before setting sail, I thought, 'I'll make sure to schedule plenty of rest to stay alert.'"

"Turns out, you can't sleep properly on the boat. Everyone's just rushing to finish fast and get back to Huigang. Saying it's dangerous or hard? That's too gentle."

"Exactly, that's how I felt too." The sheriff smiled, then asked: "I heard you want to go to Hollywood? You know, when I was young, I dreamed of seeing Hollywood's red couches—all the movie stars at my disposal."

Henry's eyes lit up: "Oh, did you succeed?"

"That dump? Even doing menial labor, you had to fight for it. Forget the red couch—I couldn't even get a couch to sleep on. So I came back."

"Alright. I've decided to make several trips during this crabbing season. Seems like a wise choice. Not aiming to make it in Hollywood—just sightseeing."

"Ha, then you'd better work hard." The sheriff drank his water, stood up, and prepared to leave. "Patrol time. If anything happens in town, you know my number."

"Yes, Sheriff." Henry stood to see him off.

New book request: follow, collect, recommend—thank you~~

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(End of Chapter)